Convict Girl

by Chrissie Michaels

  My mind flew back to the Strand, the day we went to Ball’s Linen Drapers. ‘Not the first time you ever said that to me!’ I yelled back.

  We were acting like two fireworks, hissing and spluttering all kinds of accusations at one another. Surprisingly, Mumma slumped down on a stool, the first to peter out. I realised there was something more than eggs troubling her. What she confessed came as a shock. While at the Freemasons’ Arms she had met a Thames waterman transported for thieving. He had news of Dadda. He lingers on, bedridden, cared for by a good widow and her son who have taken over our lodgings.

  Mumma stared at me forlornly and said, ‘We have been sent here for life. There is no point in either of us looking back.’

  Oh how could she say such a thing? My poor dadda! I realised how little of late I had thought of him. What if that good widow and her son turned out to be scoundrels? Who would help him, if I did not? It was then I got to wondering how much of a risk those French sailors were prepared to take for extra food rations. Would they be willing, say, to stow me away on their ship?

  13 May 1802

  All I could think about last evening was that if Captain Hamelin and his French scientists were still out gathering their plant and animal specimens, his sailors were bound to be hanging around Parramatta.

  So this morning I picked up a pail and said to Mistress Tessa, ‘Let’s play by the river.’

  The two of us were ready to scarper when Mumma spied us. I swear she has eyes in the back of her head. ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘Can I help it if I am nursemaid to a mudlark?’ I replied, twisting the egg fella’s necklace innocently. ‘We are going to make mudpies.’

  ‘Haven’t you forgot a body?’

  ‘Mistress Poppy is set on her needlepoint. She will not be a bother to you.’

  ‘Hmm!’ Mumma wavered. ‘Off you go then. But no straying too far.’

  Along our way to the river we collected seedpods from some bushy scrub trees, twisting and snapping the tough stems of their casings and dropping them in the pail. As soon as we arrived at the river bank Tessa began to make slimy mudpies. I kept a lookout, guessing the French sailors would remain somewhere between Master Larra’s tavern and the landing place.

  In the distance I recognised the pair immediately as the ones who had met Master Green-eyes. Clutching our pail of seeds, I ordered the little mistress to hop on my back. As I piggybacked her towards them, her muddy legs clung to my waist and her arms tightened around my neck. ‘Stop tugging at my necklace,’ I barked, ‘you’re choking me!’

  I stopped and lowered her to the ground with a thud, which started her whimpering, ‘I want to go back and make more mudpies.’

  ‘I want! I want! Pout like that anymore and if the wind turns, your mouth will stay pulled down forever,’ I said sharply.

  Her lower lip trembled. At once I felt shamefaced. I did not mean to snap at her. ‘Oh do stop fretting, Mistress,’ I said, ‘We shall make some more mudpies soon, I promise.’

  One of the sailors sneezed as we approached. I felt certain he was the one who had made the swap with Master Green-eyes and, I supposed, with Mumma. I strolled towards him in the hope he was as interested in trading for seeds as he was in trading for pumpkins, potatoes and eggs.

  I smiled and pushed the pail towards him, saying swiftly, ‘If you will agree to help two convict girls board your ship you can have many more seeds like these. You can trade them with your scientists for extra rations.’ Using a twig, I drew a simple ship and two stick figures in the dirt, hoping he would understand that it was not only me who wished to escape, but Ann as well. Not that she had an inkling yet. To press my point I held up two of my fingers and tried out my French counting: ‘Ducks.’

  The little mistress corrected me, ‘Deux, Mary.’

  Another slow smile curled across the sailor’s lips. He pointed to the little Mistress and me. ‘Deux,’ he repeated.

  ‘Not her. Ann Spencer,’ I said. Oh, what did it matter, as long as he understood there would be two of us.

  He touched my egg fella’s necklace. I clutched it tightly. ‘No! Non!’ I pointed to the seedpods.

  While he hummed and hawed over my stubbornness, I got to thinking that since the egg fella had made a trade of his necklace to me, in rights it was mine to use as I saw fit. ‘Alright!’ I relented, ‘Take the seeds now and I promise to give you this necklace once Ann and I are on board your ship.’

  He smiled. In the dust he drew a rising moon over my boat, above which he marked five crosses. Then he pointed to the shallow water by the bend of the river. Laughingly, he spoke, ‘We meet soon, heh, Mademoiselle.’

  ‘You speak English?’

  ‘Un peu.’

  ‘As far as I am concerned then, we fully understand each other. At dusk, in five days’ time, we shall meet up and you shall take us and hide us on your ship.’

  He nodded, keeping one eye on my necklace. So, we were going to stow away. France was not far from London. From there I could surely find my way back to Dadda.

  All I needed to do now was convince Ann my plan would work, although I was afraid she had not forgiven me for the last time things went amiss. But this time would be different. We would not involve Tibs. We would not go overland. We would be sailing away. No one but us ever needed to know. And nothing would go wrong.

  All I had to do was curb Mistress Tessa’s tongue. Happily I spent the rest of the morning fulfilling my promise to her. At the low water mark we became mudlarks, scratching at the sludge with our fingertips and making tasty mudpies.

  14 May 1802

  This afternoon I told Ann about my arrangement and how I am marking out each day with a cross to keep track of the time:

  .

  ‘I am sorry,’ she said, laying a hand briefly on my shoulder. ‘I know how important your dadda is to you, Mary, but I cannot give you my answer today.’

  Lawdy, she did not seem to realise that time was running out. There were only four crosses left to mark off. If my sailor was to be trusted, the Naturaliste should be leaving within days. Four days to be exact.

  I smarted, glowering at her. ‘Is it because you are only interested in one thing, gathering twigs to make a nest with Tibs? Is it too much to ask you to stop fussing over him and heed what I have to say? Chances like this do not come along every day, you know.’

  ‘Sometimes it is our duty to fuss over others, Mary. What about your Mumma? Does she know? I think you have forgotten we are all prisoners of the Crown.

  ‘And I think you have forgotten who is your truest friend,’ I answered haughtily. Lawdy, she did have a point! Mumma had no inkling. And I was not about to tell her.

  Later

  The Judge returned this evening with more news. His Majesty’s sloop, Investigator, has arrived. I well recall the ship being at Spithead harbour when ninety-six of us girls had remained packed in the dark on the Nile, waiting for the boys from the prison hulks to fill up two more transports, the Canada and Minorca. Lawdy, that harbour reeked of dead fish and seaweed! The Investigator was being made ready to go on a Voyage of Discovery. I remembered that when you put your ear to the air scuttle you could hear the shouts travelling across from ship to ship to ship.

  The Judge said they have stripped Investigator’s masts. The sail-makers have come ashore. The cooper, too, with all the empty casks. Governor King has had an ox killed to provide meat for Captain Matthew Flinders, who is in charge. His sailors have put up tents at Cattle Point. Some of the spare meat has also been sent to Captain Hamelin.

  The thought of oxtail soup made me lick my lips, but Mumma set me straight. ‘No point in having high hopes,’ she said, ‘we won’t be getting any. There is one rule for them and one rule for everyone else.’

  The Judge mentioned that Captain Flinders had met another French ship back in April last. This was the Géographe, flagship to the Naturaliste, with Commander-in-chief Baudin on board. They met at a place Captain Flinders named Encounter Bay in honour of thei
r meeting. The Judge said it was an event that history would always mark, where two proud navigators from different nations were mapping the same uncharted coast at the exact same time.

  I did not know that much of the land outside our colony of New South Wales was known as New Holland. The Judge said no one knew if we were two islands divided by a sea, or if we were one land. But he hoped that Captain Flinders would find the answer before Commander Baudin did, because that would make King George and Sir Joseph Banks very happy.

  Lastly, the Judge said that before winter sets in, Commander Baudin was bringing his ship to visit Port Jackson. I felt jittery. This event could ruin my escape, seeing as Captain Hamelin may well delay his departure if his Commander turned up.

  15 May 1802

  By my reckoning, one more day to go.

  16 May 1802

  As the thin sliver of the rising moon disappeared and reappeared through the clouds, I was waiting by the river, anxious for any sign of my sneezy sailor. My fingers played with the hair-string necklace around my neck. It was my fare out of the colony.

  From the water there was a splash of oars. In a flash of moonlight I caught a sailor guiding his boat in our direction.

  Oh Ann, where are you? I thought. Would she come? Deep down I knew I had been selfish. She only wished to remain with Tibs. Why should I deny her happiness? Truth was, I could not do this alone.

  On the river bank, heading towards me like in a dream, a hazy shape flickered in and out of the moonlight. Ann!

  She reached out to touch my arm. ‘You are the truest friend,’ I whispered gratefully.

  I saw her bite her lip in dismay. ‘Mary, we must spea—’ Her words cut off. I felt her fingernail dig deep into my skin. Something was wrong. I braced against musket fire, thinking a sentry must be advancing, but Ann gestured wordlessly towards a silhouette—to the tiny form of a little girl.

  I gasped in comprehension. Unmindful of the danger, Mistress Tessa had followed. She was running along the river’s edge towards us, waving wildly. In horror I watched as she skated on a slime of rotting leaves and lost her footing. She landed on her back, gave a pitiful scream and slid slip-slod into the water.

  Ann turned the colour of clay. She stood helpless. I wrenched her to her senses. We had to reach Tessa before she slipped under. From behind I heard the rapid splash of oars. Thankfully the boat was coming in haste. We would surely need more hands to the rescue.

  Soon we were closing the gap. Luckily the moon stayed out of the clouds long enough for us to reach the little mistress. I gripped Ann’s hand, the pair of us forming a human chain, and moved to the edge of the mud.

  Where were those sailors? To my shock I realised they had swung the boat around and were heading away.

  Out a little further from where my mistress was lying, the water was running with some force. I prayed the current did not take her. Her head was barely above the waterline. Fear darkened her eyes. Her dainty fingers clutched desperately onto a slimy rock. I stretched out further. ‘I am going to grab you now, Tessa,’ I said, my voice all a-tremble. ‘Do not let go until I say so.’

  Having heard the commotion, a sentry was running hard towards us. I inched closer to the water. Mistress Tessa screamed, ‘My fingers are slipping!’

  I thrust my hand forward and grabbed her wrist. Together Ann and I managed to drag her to safety. ‘Hush now, you are safe, my little Tessa,’ I murmured. She was shivering. I covered her with my shawl and clutched her tiny trembling body close to my chest.

  The sentry was almost upon us, bayonet at the ready, but Ann managed to whisper to me, ‘What a brave, selfless girl you are, Mary. You sacrificed your chance at freedom to save her.’

  I shrugged off her words. There was no choice to be had. Trying to stay calm, I invented an explanation for the sentry. ‘She has been sleepwalking. We came out to search for her. You do know she is Acting Judge-Advocate Atkin’s daughter? Will you see us unharmed back home?’ I doubt if he believed me but I prayed he dare not risk doing anything that might anger the Judge.

  Proving me right, the sentry delivered us back to the house. We found ourselves standing before a seething Mumma. As she heard him out, her lips tightened into a livid slit. ‘His Honour’s daughter … sleepwalker … hmmm,’ she echoed, until the sentry departed, convinced there was truth in our story.

  As soon as he was out of hearing Mumma hissed, ‘I don’t know what else you been up to, but if the Judge were not out and about he would have you flimsy-flamsies strung up and left on a gibbet.’ She sent Ann on her way with a fierce tongue-lashing, then bade me take Tessa, who had fallen into a sleepy state, and see her settled in bed. ‘Just you hope we do not have to call in the Surgeon.’

  Mercifully, the little mistress had been spared. There seemed to be no great harm done. When she was tucked in and resting serenely, I gave her a peck on the cheek. She flung out an arm. Her eyelids fluttered open. In a little-lady voice full of sleepy authority, she whispered. ‘I’ll not tell Father, Mary, but you ought always to call me Mistress Tessa.’

  ‘What is the matter?’ grumbled Poppy, turning over and tossing off the bed linen.

  ‘Nothing.’ I tucked her back in, popping a peck on her cheek as well. ‘Hush now. Go back to sleep.’

  24 May 1802

  ‘We were destined to fail,’ I said wretchedly to Ann. ‘Why do things always go from bad to worse?’ A week ago Captain Hamelin sailed away on the Naturaliste. After all was said and done he did not wait for his Commander Baudin to arrive. Before he sailed he set nine stowaways on shore. Seems we were not the only ones seeking a passage to freedom on the ship. All have been flogged.

  ‘This may sound strange, Mary,’ Ann answered, ‘but I think your dadda would want you to steer away from trouble and make a good life for yourself. Since we were transported I feel like my own life has taken a turn for the better. I have such hopes for Tibs and me.’

  ‘That is clear for everyone to see.’

  ‘Tibs has never once been in trouble since he was sentenced,’ she said in his defence. ‘He intends to keep it that way.’ She looked at me steadfastly. ‘Mary, I never wanted to let you down, but you see there is nothing for me to go back to. I started to tell you at the river bank, but then Mistress Tessa faced such grave danger.’

  ‘It is me who should be begging your forgiveness, for dragging you, for dragging us all, into my foolhardy schemes,’ I said, shamefaced.

  Ann gave me a warm hug. ‘Being the best friend of a muddlehead is not easy, you know. That night at Brickfields, Jones’ ghost, remember? Did you not guess that I took you there on purpose? That my only intention was to scare you into returning?’

  ‘And it worked! I am not such a clever clods as you,’ I admitted. ‘You are the only one who dare save me from my own disastrous notions.’

  She laughed. ‘You are being too devilish, Mary. Seriously, there is nothing to forgive. But keep up your spirits, dearest, you told me yourself your dadda is being cared for. He would not wish you to come to harm.’

  ‘The truth is I have lost all heart for escape. Danger appears at every turn.’

  ‘Unfortunately no one is ever going to give us a free passage away from New South Wales. So we have to think of building a safer future here. When Tibs is freed he hopes to get a land grant up at the Hawkesbury. He intends to apply for servant help. As his wife I could be assigned to him. We hope to grow fields of wheat and corn, or graze sheep. We may run a workshop as well, where Tibs can build ploughs, carts or carriages.’

  ‘I am happy for you.’ I tried to sound lighthearted. ‘You will be like Mistress Macarthur. She is most able at running Elizabeth Farm. On top, she tends a house full of babies.’

  Ann blushed. ‘They say this is a wonderful air for child bearing.’ She jumped up with a squeal. ‘Oh, but I have come upon the best idea! When Tibs and I start a family we shall be in need of a good nursemaid. You, dearest! Tibs can apply to have you assigned to him as well. Good citizens can earn thei
r freedom early,’ she assured me, ‘even those transported for life. We can all grow prosperous together.’

  A home with Ann and Tibs was a future I had never imagined. Their sheep would grow fat and have fleece to rival the Macarthurs. They would become so wealthy their farm would stretch as far as the eye could see. For the first time I was able to picture a new life ahead of me in this colony. Why not? Master Lord had his shops and industry. The Cleaters had their wheels and coffins. Master Larra had his tavern. Once upon a time they had all been sent out as convicts. There was no denying some emancipists were fast going on the up-and-up. Lawdy! I could even make enough to pay for the best care for Dadda back in London. ‘I shall set about teaching you both to read and write,’ I said eagerly. ‘If we do our own ledgers we will most certainly keep our business ventures prosperous.’

  4 June 1802

  Today is King George’s birthday. Fancy, he has been on the throne since before Mumma was born. Our poor King suffers periodically from raging fits and delirium, but lawdy I dare not call him mad, especially in front of Mumma! Still I am sure that he would be glad to know his subjects here in Port Jackson are whirling around singing and cheering his health today. ‘Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!’

  I said Port Jackson, not Parramatta, because our entire household has moved townships while the Judge carries out official duties for the Governor. We are only a few strides away from the big Government House, which sits atop the hill overlooking Sydney Cove.